Birthday Bash
by pretense
Summary: There’s food, there’s music, and there’s the nations. A damn great party is being hosted and everyone’s enjoying themselves… although the house would probably be a total disaster area after. But, um, whose birthday was it again? Warning: Shounen-ai.


**Title: **Birthday Bash

**Summary:** There's food, there's music, and there's the nations. A damn great party is being hosted and everyone's enjoying themselves… although the house would probably be a total disaster area after. But, um, whose birthday was it again?

**Warning:** Shounen-ai and amateur writing.

**Anime:** Axis Powers – Hetalia

**Genre:** General

**Pair:** implications of Spain/Romano, a teesny bit of Sweden/Finland, Greece/Japan with Turkey on the side, mentions of US/UK, Russia/China (just because), Germany/Veneziano (it wouldn't be Hetalia without this), France/Canada (although there's not much action), and a Prussia messing with everybody else.

**Rating:** T

**Word count:** 4296

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia. Simple as that.

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Silky blonde hair frizzled, rectangular spectacles askew and blue eyes wide in shock. Canada was, simply put, speechless. He honestly had no idea how everything had come down to this. His once pristine house was now filled with nations, all of which were getting… rowdy, for the lack of a better word.

Someone had put up a disco ball on the ceiling of his living room and much too loud party music streamed into his ears. Poland, who had come to the party wearing a pink tank top and a denim skirt, was hand in hand with Lithuania; the latter being whirled around mercilessly by his ecstatic companion. Latvia was cheering on his fellow Baltic states whilst staying on the sidelines with an ever-rigid Estonia who was drinking some punch.

Korea suddenly bounded into the room, exclaiming that disco originated from him and proceeded to show off on the dance floor. China took this as the cue to leave the room as quickly and quietly as possible, vacating his seat between two quiet women, Taiwan and Belgium. Both female nations didn't even seem to notice the Chinese man's departure as they continued to sit daintily, merely watching the show of nations dancing to pop music.

Meanwhile, Romano was shouting profanities at his fellow tomato-loving country from one corner of the room. Spain was cheerfully asking the southern Italian brother to 'come join the dance' in spite of the numerous curses that was sent his way… in three different languages at that.

Darting past the crowd, Canada rushed towards his front door with Kumajiro totting along by his feet; someone had just rung the doorbell. Narrowly avoiding a collision with Hong Kong, who had lit up small sparklers by the entry hallway, the bespectacled blonde finally opened his door to find a surprisingly late Japan and a (not-so-surprisingly) dozing Greek at his porch. The Asian nation was supporting the brunet whose right arm was slung over his shoulders.

"Happy birthday, Canada-san." Kiku greeted, handing over a cloth-covered box to the blonde man.

"T-Thank you, Japan," the bespectacled nation replied gratefully as he took the package with both hands. "Do come in, eh?" He continued, making way for the pair to pass through his door.

The Japanese man nodded and proceeded into the house, his slumbering ally leaning on his relatively smaller frame for support.

Closing the door, Canada found a confused Japan lingering in the hallway. Hong Kong was suspiciously out of sight. "Is something the matter?" the blue-eyed man queried.

"It's noisy." Japan pointed out as Heracles continued to sleep in spite of the blaring sounds.

"Oh yes, Greece needs his rest, eh," Canada realized. "Why don't you bring him upstairs? Second door on the right is a guest room."

Nodding, the Oriental nation made a beeline for the staircase.

Tugging at the hem of his jeans shifted Canada's attention towards the polar bear at his feet. "Kumajiro, eh? What's up?"

The pure white animal only tugged harder at the denim fabric before rushing off to the end of the hallway; going towards the kitchens.

Matthew followed his pet but found that the bear was no where to be seen when he'd finally turned the corner. There was, however, a white beret lying on the floor. Curious, and confused, Canada moved towards the headdress and picked it up from the carpeted floor.

A sudden clamor resounded, startling the bespectacled nation. A series of thumps then followed, and Canada's blue eyes found his spare supply closet to be the source of the noise. A muffled moan came forth and he immediately decided that he didn't really want to know what was going on. Dropping the beret, he hurried off to the kitchen where an equally disturbing sight awaited him.

Italy was hogging all the food that Canada had prepared/ordered for his guests; literally taking a bite of everything on the kitchen table. China, on the other hand, was carefully selecting portions of food, which he then stored in small paper bags. The tail of a scarf was the first indication to find Russia. The tallest nation was bent under the kitchen sink, the sound of clinking metal emanating from that spot was a telltale sign that pipes were soon to go missing from the birthday boy's kitchen.

"Come on, West, drink up!" came a loud and roguish voice from the adjoined dining room, towards which the blue-eyed blonde quickly went over to investigate. However, before he could even fully enter the room, Canada chanced to step on some liquid on the floor. Thankfully, the nation was able to hold on to the door frame for support, avoiding a most likely painful fall.

Blinking rapidly, Matthew recognized a puddle of amber liquid on his smooth floor, small white bubbles foaming around the edges of the strong-smelling drink.

"You alright, Canada?" Germany's deep voice resounded from within the room.

Bright blue eyes from behind rectangular glasses peered at what appeared to be at least three dozen bottles of beer littered on the dining table, with Prussia and Germany sitting on either side of it.

"W – Wha – Huh?" confusion was evident on Canada's youthful face. He certainly did not remember taking beer into his house. Ever.

"Oh hey, Canada!" silver-haired Prussia greeted from the table, a bottle of beer in both hands. "How about joining my awesome over here? 'S your birthday, after all! Have a drink!"

"Um, eh, no thank you…" Canada politely refused the red-eyed man's offer. "But, uh, why's there beer spilled on my floor?" he added in what he hoped to be a non-accusing tone.

"England." The two remaining drinkers replied in unison.

"Oh."

"He was totally smashed after, what? Half a dozen bottles, that's right! Haha!" Prussia explained smugly, gulping down more alcohol. "Spilled all the good stuff all over his damn self!"

"W-Where is he?" blonde Canada asked, feeling quite fearful of the prospect of a drunken Englishman going loose at this already wild party.

"America took him upstairs… to clean him up, I suppose," Germany replied, a dull blush adorning his cheeks as he suppressed a cough.

"A-Ah…" Matthew found it a lot easier to just agree; knowing his brother, he didn't want anymore iteration of this 'cleaning up' business.

"Canada," a soft yet deep voice came from behind, accompanied by a gloved hand closing in on the blonde's right shoulder.

"O-Oh, hi, erm, Russia…" the smaller nation greeted as he faced the intimidating man.

"You're gonna drink, da?" the platinum-haired man asked, seeing the other two European nations chugging down beer at the table in the middle of the room.

Canada immediately noticed the number of metal pipes tied in a bundle at the Russian's other hand and easily chose not to comment on it. "I-I don't drink, actually," he meekly replied, to which the amethyst-eyed nation only smiled even wider.

"Why not?" Ivan asked with an air of pleased curiosity about him.

The blue-eyed nation stepped back but froze when he felt his shoe step into the puddle of beer. "Er…"

Fortunately, the Canadian was saved from replying when Italy bounded into the room. Veneziano came in bearing a tray of assorted food, bouncing over to sit beside Germany, offering him and his 'brother' some snacks. _Un_fortunately, when the Italian went through the doorway, his over-energetic entrance caused Canada to loose his footing and fall backwards – landing directly into the spilled alcohol on his floor.

Matthew grimaced as his best jeans got soaked through with beer. A groan of hurt escaped him as he tried to stand up, only then did the Northern Italian brother realize the situation.

"Ve~? Canada? What are you doing on the floor?" Feliciano queried innocently.

"You knocked him over when you came in, o' course," Prussia explained, smirking at the aghast expression that decorated the russet-haired nation's face.

"I-I did?" Italy asked, looking fearful, turning towards his blonde 'protector' for confirmation.

Germany sighed, baby blue eyes staring at the smaller nation. "Yes, you did, Italy. Now go make up for it…"

Feliciano nodded fervently and rushed over to the Canadian's side, helping the latter back to his feet and spewing out his apologies as he did so.

"Ve~ ve~ I'm really, really sorry!" the brunet finished once Matthew was standing up properly once again. "Are you hurt, Canada?"

"I'm fine," the addressed nation replied with a grimace, his beer-soaked jeans were getting quite uncomfortable. "J-Just a bit wet… But, accidents happen, eh? It's nothing, so don't worry about it…" the blonde man added, seeing the apprehensive mien on the Italian's face.

"You should get changed, da?" came Russia's unexpected suggestion.

"Um, yes, I suppose I should, eh," Canada gulped as Ivan's 'kind' smile went wider, his violet eyes darkening in hue. The birthday boy gulped as Italy chose that moment to bounce back to Germany's side at the dining table, very much pleased that the celebrant wasn't hurt nor angry at him.

"M-hm, you should," the amethyst-eyed nation agreed. "I shall accompany you, yes?"

"Russia, aru!" came a certain Chinese's voice from behind the intimidating tall man.

"Ah, China, hello!" the platinum-blonde nation greeted, turning sideways to address the oriental man, a different look settling in his eyes.

"Canada can change clothes by himself, right, aru?" Wang Yao continued, looking directly at the English-and-French-speaking nation.

"Yes, of course," Canada answered instantly. "I'll go change right now, eh." With that, the bespectacled nation rushed out of the room, the voices of an innocent-sounding Russia and a not-too-pleased China echoing behind him.

"_What_ were you thinking, aru?" demanded China's voice.

"Just helping, da…" amusement played on the Russian's statement.

"No more invading, aru, I told you that…" Yao said in a disgruntled tune.

"Yes, China…" was Ivan's soft reply.

"Good." A 'hmph' followed the Chinese man's solid affirmation.

"…Vodka?" came the taller nation's offer after a few seconds of silence.

On the other hand, Matthew had just effectively (and politely, of course) wiggled his way away from a teary-eyed Ukraine who was asking everyone around to be her friend. Walking up the stairs, the blonde man found Kiku standing next to a closed door on the second floor, one ear pressed against the wood.

"Ah, Japan, where's Greece, eh?" Canada asked, confused that the Japanese man would walk around with Heracles nowhere in sight.

Despite being quite startled at the sudden appearance of the party's host, Japan instantly straightened up. "He's already resting in your guest room, Canada-san."

"Oh, that's good to hear, eh," Matthew said in relief. "But, uh, what are you doing by the bathroom?"

At this, Japan's obsidian eyes shifted to the side, a pale blush adorning his cheeks. "I-I thought I heard noises and went to investigate but the door was locked, apparently."

"You mean somebody's trapped in there?" worry filled the sky blue orbs as Canada rushed over to the closed door and pressed his ears against the wood, hoping to hear some kind of distress call from within. What he heard, however, were sounds of splashing water, British curse words, moans and a lot more things that would be better labeled as R-18.

Canada quickly pulled away from the door, cheeks tinted red, blue eyes staring at the floor. "Uhm, I'd better go change clothes now, Japan…" the blonde man began, "Why don't you join the party downstairs, eh? I-I'll be down there in a bit, so see ya!" Matthew then ran past the oriental nation, heading towards the last room on the right hand side of the hall, which was his very own bedroom. He closed the door with an audible sigh. Trust America to do such things… Ah well, at least they had the decency of doing it in private… A properly locked room and not in the middle of his living room or somewhere else…

Canada suppressed a shudder as he walked over to his armoire; he picked out a clean set of undergarments, jeans and a parka before setting off into the adjoined bathroom. Now he was really grateful for that installment. Shedding off his sullied clothes, Matthew began to put on a new set when loud noises erupted from outside the bathroom – and considering that he could still hear it even when he was already inside an inner room of his bedroom, Canada deduced that it must be quite a racket outside. Pulling on the orange parka over his head, Canada then dumped the alcohol-stained clothes into his laundry basket before he proceeded to walk out of the room.

"What did ya saaaayyy?!"

A high-pitched scream rattled the Canadian's eardrums as he opened his bedroom door. Venturing towards the second floor hallway, the bespectacled blonde found a fuming Turkish man accompanying Kiku.

"Um, that I came here with Greece-san?" Japan repeated in a calm yet somewhat weary voice as the Turkish nation loomed over him.

"Why?!?!" Sadiq asked, throwing his hands up in the air for emphasis. "Tha' Greek bastard could be thinking of invading yer vital regions! Ya never know with tha' scum!"

At this, Japan managed a small cough that somehow sounded (to Canada, at least) to be 'already did', but apparently, the masked nation didn't hear that for he continued to rant.

"And where's tha' Greece bastard now, huh? He left ya by yerself? My god, what a good fer nothing piece of crap! Come on Japan, _I'll_ take ya downstairs to party properly!"

"Turk–" but Canada's attempt to draw other two nations' attention was drowned out by the sudden slam of a doorway.

"Hands off Japan, you beard face!" Heracles appeared from behind the door, looking very much awake _and_ put-off. He then proceeded to march up towards Kiku and Sadiq, purposely glaring daggers at the latter.

Seeing the Greek nation, Turkey scowled, at the same time securing a hold on the oriental man's right wrist. "You!" Sadiq spat back with an equally heated glare. "How dare ya sleep in on Japan? Leaving him alone to wander the halls! This is a party, damn it! Yer not supposed to sleep in 'ta first place! Yer a disgrace 'ta all nations!"

"Like I'd listen to _you_!" Greece retorted, putting his own hands on Kiku's left wrist, consequently pulling the smaller nation towards him. "Now get your dirty hands off him!"

"No, _you_ let go of Japan, damn Greek bastard!" Tug.

"Mask freak!" Tug.

"Lazy ass!" Tug.

As the Asian nation promptly found himself caught in the middle of this 'tug-of-war', Kiku's eyes found Canada standing far-off in the hall. The Japanese man mutely begged to be relieved of his predicament – putting on a most pleading look towards the birthday boy.

Matthew clenched his fists and nodded towards the nation in need. Taking a deep breath, the Canadian walked over towards his guests. The blonde continued to walk towards the trio in his hallway, the two arguing nations seemingly unable to notice his arrival.

"Just let go, you smelly bastard!" Heracles snapped, both hands now gripping Japan by his forearm.

"What did ya say?!" Turkey glowered, pulling Kiku away from the Greek man with much force.

The Japanese man, having just had quite enough of this age-old argument, finally spoke up, dark eyes pointedly looking at the blonde celebrant. "Oh hello, Canada-san!" Hearing that, the two fighting countries turned their attention towards the bespectacled man standing only a few feet away from them.

"H-Hey, guys," Canada automatically put up his usual smile on his face. "Welcome to my house, eh? I'm glad you took the time to get here, why don't we all go down to the party, eh? It's a lot more fun down there, I say!"

Kiku smiled gratefully at the blonde as the glares dispersed from both Greece and Turkey's faces; the duo seemed to decide that arguing in front of other nations (that wasn't Japan) was unsightly… or something or another. Well, at least they stopped… for now.

Just then, a particularly loud splash of water came from the hallway bathroom just behind Turkey. Heracles shot the door a curious glance whilst the masked nation frowned widely. "What 'ta hell was that?!" Sadiq demanded, moving towards the door with a fist in the air, looking as though he would knock on the wood.

Alarmed, Matthew quickly moved behind his guests and began to push the male nations away from the bathroom door. "Let's go down to the party now, eh?" he stated with a small laugh, at the same time making a mental note to _never_ let Alfred leave this house until he'd cleaned that bathroom squeaky clean.

Once the group of four reached the first floor, the first sight to see was Switzerland kicking Prussia back to the hall towards the kitchens, with a deeply blushing Liechtenstein standing behind her aggressive brother.

"And don't you fucking dare come within five meters of my sister, you got that?!" Vash was screaming into the hall, a hand gun cocked in his hands.

"You're no fun~!" the red-eyed nation bellowed from the shadows of the hall.

"Why hello, miss," a dreadlocked man spoke with a grin and a reddish hue on his cheeks as he moved towards the short-haired woman.

"Ah, well, hello as well," Liechtenstein replied, smiling shyly at the dark-skinned man. "You are… Cuba, is that right?"

"Wow, you know my name?" Cuba grinned wider, standing closer to the smaller nation and placing a hand on her shoulder. "How about some punch, hm?" he offered, raising a plastic cup filled with red liquid towards the girl.

"Oh, that's very kind of you…" the green-eyed blonde said in response.

"Nah, it's nothing! Have a drink!" the bearded man laughed, pushing his cup of punch towards the other nation.

"Th-Thanks–"

"Hold it right there, Liechtenstein!" Switzerland called, a mistrusting look on his features as he walked up to his younger sister. He took the cup of red liquid and took a sniff, frowning wider as his jade eyes glared at the Cuban nation. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Relax, I was just giving the pretty lady a drink…" answered Cuba with a shrug.

"Well, mister, that 'drink' was fucking _spiked_ with alcohol!" Vash gritted his teeth, pointing his gun at the dark-haired nation. "Now get the fuck away before I blow your brains out!"

"Hey, hey, I didn't put the alcohol in there!" Cuba raised both hands in surrender, backing away from the armed man at the same time. "I just got that from the punch bowl, man… Had no idea it was spiked… Jeez…"

"How can you not know it had alcohol?! This stuff reeks of ale, damn it!" Switzerland advanced on the Spanish-speaking nation threateningly.

"Brother, please calm down," Liechtenstein spoke in an appeasing voice. She was thankful of her brother's protectiveness, no doubt about it, but she just hoped that Vash would find time to relax once in a while. And they were at a birthday party, so weren't they supposed to have fun? Her wide green eyes then found Canada on the staircase, quietly watching the scene below with three other nations. "Look, brother, there's Canada! It's his birthday so please keep the gun away for a moment…"

"You!" Switzerland turned towards the celebrant, a definite frown still on his face despite having lowered his weapon at his sister's request. "You spiked that punch, didn't you?!" he accused, raising the cup in the bespectacled blonde's direction, the contents splashing around haphazardly.

With six countries looking questioningly at him, Canada couldn't help but tear a little. "I-I did not! I don't even drink alcohol!" he protested earnestly.

"Yeah, well who did?" Vash raised a brow in sarcasm.

Matthew only gaped, having no idea who really did the crime, when suddenly a certain Teutonic Knight's voice rang out.

"Hey West! Bring over that bottle of beer over here! That Hong Kong's still not drunk enough!! Hit me with some nunchucks he did!"

The plastic cup was crushed in the Swiss man's hand, red-hued contents spilling onto the floor. "Never mind, Canada, sorry for accusing you." The nation gritted out, the corners of his lips twitching. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think there's a long over-due country here that needs to be laid to rest." With that, Switzerland turned around and marched towards the hallway again, bellowing in a pissed off tone. "PRUSSIA YOU SON OF A GUN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU UP TO NOW?! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!"

Shaking his head, Cuba walked back into the living room, muttering something about getting himself a new drink. Liechtenstein soon followed the dreadlocked man, deeming that he was trustworthy enough anyway; but she would do best not to take any drink from now on.

The three other remaining nations followed suit into the lively living room where a newly installed karaoke machine stood in a corner, with Korea belting out songs that no one else really understood nor appreciated. The celebrant didn't really know who brought it over, but hey, at least everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves at his party. Canada was just getting into the doorframe of the living room when loud knocking – nay, _banging_ sounds came from his front door. Startled, Matthew froze in his tracks, wide blue eyes staring as his once strong and stable door was torn off of its hinges, splinters of wood littering the carpeted floor. A quiet 'meep' escaped the blonde's lips as the shadow of a totally-not-happy Belarus loomed over him from the doorway, the bright streetlights outside effectively shadowing the Baltic Nation's face in all the right places.

"Canada…" Natalie began as her heeled shoes stepped into the threshold, a wide smile on her lips. "Why wasn't I invited to your party?" she asked in a voice of poisoned honey.

"E-Eh?" Matthew's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "B-But I s-sent invitations to everyone!"

"Oh?" Belarus cocked her head to one side, a smirk pulling on the corners of her lips. "Then why are all the other Baltics here whilst I was running all alone around the mansion looking for them? Why had no one informed me of this gathering, Canada?" she took another step closer to the obviously rattled boy.

"B-But, I-I was _sure_ Ru-Russia said _he'll_ be the one to give my invitation to you!!" Canada wailed, moving back across the entry hall, not wanting to bring the somewhat cracked woman into his living room where (mostly) innocent nations were partying.

"Russia dear?" for the first time confusion appeared on Natalie's face and her voice gained a soft tone. "But I didn't receive any… _Did brother purposely not give me that invitation_?!" she began shrieking. "_Is brother here, Canada?!"_

"Y-Yes…"

"_And is __**that**__ bastard here, Canada?!_"

"I-I don't know who you're talking about!!" The blonde celebrant felt like a quick trip to the bathroom was soon due but the deadly glares from Belarus only served to frighten him more and more, backwards was the only way he knew he could go. He'd be damned if he reached the wall too soon. '_Help, anyone!_' the bespectacled nation screamed in his mind.

"Is _he_ here, Canada?" Belarus repeated slowly with danger lacing her every word. "Is brother Russia with him, Canada?"

"H-Him..? D-Do you mean, China?" Matthew squeaked, already scared out of his wits. His mind was all muddled and he didn't really want to bring any other nation into the conversation but he just remembered Ivan and Yao conversing earlier and –

Belarus let out a hiss, her brows furrowing in distaste. "_Where _is my dear brother, Canada?" she asked in a sweet tone that deceived no one.

"I… I…" the Canadian backed a few more steps when suddenly he felt his back collide with something solid. _Oh crap_. The silver-haired woman who was ceaselessly moving forward with a deathly air suddenly stopped a few feet before him. Blue eyes were shut tight as the young man awaited his impending doom. However, ten seconds of no apparent movement made the nation open his eyes once again. Canada allowed his confusion to show through when Belarus suddenly turned green and then promptly walked away, slamming the unhinged door shut behind her as she wordlessly strode off into the night. What was that all about?

"Ah, Matthieu! Bonjour! I have been looking all over for you!" came a silky voice that was most welcome to the birthday celebrant.

"France!" the shorter nation exclaimed as he turned around to face his once-adoptive-father. However, the smile fell from his face and his arms froze in an attempted hug when his eyes saw the French nation's state of dress… or _undress_ rather.

Francis had his cat ears on and the red cloth-thing covering his private regions. Those and nothing else. The bearded nation didn't seem to be the least bit deterred at his previous colony's state of catatonic shock. He closed the small gap between them and enveloped the younger blonde in a tight embrace.

"_Bon anniversaire, mon amour_!" France greeted as he squeezed the young boy tighter. "_Pardon_ for my tardiness, _mon chéri_, but you know, I had quite the problem picking the best outfit for your special day! But still! What a grand party you're hosting! And my, oh my, how you've grown!" The Frenchman proceeded to kiss Canada on both cheeks before holding the smaller nation in arm's length as though to survey him. A small frown fell on the older man's lips when he found the birthday boy knocked out, with a face as red as a tomato.

"Tsk tsk," France shook his head with a pout. "I _knew_ that bunny outfit was better… Ah well, there's always next year… Come on, Matthieu, lights out for you now…"

_**+-+-+**_

**A/N:** Canada's not forgotten at all! Happy birthday, Matthieu! ILU! (haha, I just love the French spelling of dear Canada's name!)

And just in case, a quick and basic translation for Francis' French:

"_Bon anniversaire, mon amour_!" – "Happy birthday, my love!"

"_Pardon_ for my tardiness, _mon chéri_…" – "I'm sorry for my tardiness, my darling…"

Wow, it's my first time to work with so many characters in Hetalia, so I hope I did (most, if not all of) them justice. (And oh shit I forgot Austria!! –wail–) I personally would've liked to put more US/UK but I was running out of time… It's already June 30 and I still had the ending to finish… so yea, sorry if the last bit seems rushed. :D And Francis would just be taking dear Canada to bed! Nothing more… but then again, this **IS **France that we're talking about… :S

Comments and critiques are most welcome since I do plan more Hetalia fics in the future. Help me improve, please?

Have a nice day, everyone!


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